


cyclone

by FifteenDozenTimes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, First Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FifteenDozenTimes/pseuds/FifteenDozenTimes
Summary: The hardest-working teens at the Citadel steal themselves a lazy Saturday afternoon.





	cyclone

**Author's Note:**

> Gladnis Week Day 3: Brotherhood Era
> 
> 16yo Gladio/15yo Ignis

It’s too hot to train. Gladio would have Noct doing squats for hours if he tried that excuse, but Gladio’s in charge and he gets to use whatever excuse he wants. His sword and Ignis’ lance lie forgotten on the grass somewhere; Gladio watches the clouds, or at least the Wall casting a subtle iridescence over them. Ignis is doing yoga a few feet away, so he can pretend he’s not slacking off. There’s a thousand other things they should be doing if they’re not being useful out here, but Gladio couldn’t possibly give less of a shit right now.

“Why’s it so _hot_ ,” Gladio says, in a voice that most people would maybe think of as a whine, but it’s not, because he’s Gladio and he’s extremely stoic and cool.

“Something to do with the angle of the sun this time of year and the Wall acting as a magnifying glass, of sorts.”

Ignis sounds strained. Gladio puts in the immense effort to push up on his elbows to see why, and he’s well-rewarded for it. Ignis has his legs up in the air, a perfect horizontal line of a split while he braces himself on his elbows. Damn, if that’s what’s going on in his morning yoga class, Gladio should probably be a little more agreeable next time Iggy invites him.

“Figured you’d have a whole lecture.”

“Do you _want_ the whole lecture?”

“It’s too hot for a lecture.”

“So stop whining,” Ignis says, like a jerk who doesn’t know Gladio doesn’t whine.

Gladio goes back to his cloud-watching, because if he keeps Ignis-watching he’ll just end up with his fifth awkward boner of the day, and that’s a totally normal part of being a totally normal and healthy teenage boy, but he hates when Ignis notices and gets all shy about it. Like, he’s cute when he’s shy, but not so much when he won’t look Gladio in the eye for the next few hours. But clouds are boring, and Gladio hates silence, and why is Ignis even here if not to keep Gladio entertained?

“Hey, Iggy,” he says; Ignis sighs.

“What now?”

“What’s the dumbest move you’ve got?”

“Excuse me?” Ignis starts easing out of his dumb show-off one-handed handstand thing and moving smoothly into his cooldown. Express train to awkward boner town, all aboard.

“You know, when you’ve hit, like, a plateau with your training, so you spend some time dicking around to see what sort of cool stunts you can come up with?” Gladio’s been working on this cool thing where he stomps his foot real hard and throws his shield, which would probably really hurt but then he wouldn’t have a shield anymore.

“Does that sound like something I’d do?”

“Remember the time you broke your nose ‘cause you were _so_ sure you didn’t need to be able to warp to get to your lance from the roof?”

“And my arm,” Ignis says, thoughtfully, “Touche.”

Ignis rises up from the ground in one fluid motion, graceful like a flower or some shit. Gladio really likes watching him move around; Gladio’s also pretty bad at hiding it, if Ignis’ blush is anything to go by. That’s also a really good look. He gets his lance and sticks it firmly into the ground in the center of the grassy patch, then backs a couple yards away.

“If this is just your jumping off the roof thing, I don’t need to see it again.”

Ignis ignores him, the way he apparently needs to a lot of the time so he doesn’t stop hanging out with Gladio. Gladio’s pretty sure now that the whole kissing thing’s a thing, Ignis is just pretending to get fed up, but he’s also pretty sure he doesn’t get to do the kissing thing if he doesn’t play along. The kissing thing is important, and Gladio’s real good at playing along. 

Ignis gets a running start, jumps at his lance, and catches himself with both hands around the shaft, using his momentum to keep him swinging around, and around, and around, until Gladio’s dizzy just looking at him. Boss.

He ruins the effect a little by trying to add a flip to his dismount after using up all his momentum and loses his balance when he lands, but still. Fucking cool.

“For head-kicking,” Gladio says; it’s definitely more efficient than his old-fashioned get his leg up high and just kick a guy in the head method. “Nice.”

“For seeing if I could do it,” Ignis says, with an eye roll that makes Gladio want to give him a noogie and also kiss him. “There’s no combat application.”

“Do that in the middle of a group of assassins, take ‘em all out with your cool head kicks, that’s the combat application.”

“I don’t think assassins generally work in groups.”

“Yeah, but who else are we ever gonna have to fight?”

“Touche,” Ignis says, but not the good way he said it earlier when he admitted Gladio was right, just the normal Ignis _I’m smarter than you_ way. Gladio’s cheeks hurt from grinning so wide at him.

Ignis backs up and does it again; this time he pulls the lance out of the ground with him when his feet touch the floor and gets into a half-decent ready stance only a little awkwardly. It takes him a couple seconds too long, the lance digs in too deep and has the wrong weight distribution for it to be actually useful, but it’s still pretty cool.

“Cool,” Gladio says, when he notices Ignis watching him from under his bangs and realizes he forgot to say anything out loud. When Iggy’s in a mood to show off, he needs to be admired after. Gladio told his dad once he should tell Iggy when he says something smart in meetings; he’s not sure his dad listened, and in hindsight he’s pretty sure Ignis would’ve hit him if he knew. Not like it matters, Gladio can admire Ignis enough for, like, thirty people.

“In case there’s an assassin still standing,” Ignis says, with a crooked smile, “after the head-kicking.”

“Hey, wanna see if we can make this even dumber?”

Ignis frowns. “I thought the point was to refine it into something useful.”

“Nah,” Gladio says, clambering up with all the grace of a pile of rocks. His foot is asleep, and he stumbles a little before he gets his balance. Ignis smirks but doesn’t laugh out loud, which is nice of him. “The point’s to fuck around.”

“Well then,” Ignis says, gesturing with way too much flourish to the patch of grass his lance was just stuck in, “by all means.”

His _do your worst_ smile falters a little when Gladio picks up his greatsword, but only for a second; only someone training for a side gig as a Professional Ignis Watcher would notice. Ignis’ eyes actually light up a little when Gladio lifts his sword up and then sticks it in the ground nice and solid, because he’s a little bit adrenaline-dumb the same way Gladio is, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

“Can you do it on just the hilt?”

“Let’s find out,” Ignis says, and takes off running. For a half-second Gladio’s sure he’s going to grab part of the sword; it’s too blunt to cut him, but it’ll still probably hurt like a bitch. But Ignis corrects, if he ever actually needed to, and gets a good solid hold. His spin is a little off, the sword a little crooked in the ground and a little too tall for him to keep perfectly horizontal like he could on his lance, but it’s still _extremely_ fucking cool.

Ignis aims for the ground when he’s still going pretty fast, plants his feet into a surprisingly stable stance, and - fuck yes - uses his momentum to pull Gladio’s sword out of the ground and swing it almost full-circle. Holy shit he’s so strong, when did he get that strong?

Gladio whoops and punches the air; Ignis is laughing a little wild and a lot gorgeous. He’s flushed, and sweating so much his t-shirt is sticking to him, and he’s _so cool_ , and Gladio whoops again because he doesn’t know what else to do with how full he feels looking at his - at Ignis.

“Beheading the lot of them,” Ignis says, voice bright from laughing. “That should do it.”

“Watch out, assassins,” Gladio says, and stops pretending like he’s okay doing anything other than sweeping Ignis into a bear hug. Ignis doesn’t try to squirm out of his grip like usual, just kisses Gladio on the cheek and then on the mouth. Just a little kiss, soft press of lips and then it’s over, but they’re _outside_ where people can _see_ and Ignis kissed him anyway.

“I have a class to get to,” Ignis says, still not trying to free himself from Gladio’s very good hug, which is very smart but not very Ignis.

“You always have a class to get to,” Gladio says; Ignis rolls his eyes, which Gladio definitely deserves after actually getting Ignis to waste time with him and then complaining anyway. Gladio lets go, but Ignis stays close to him for a second, like he’s not ready to be done hugging, and Gladio doesn’t whoop right in his ear but he _almost_ does. “Come over for dinner tonight?”

Ignis blushes that real pretty blush of his; dinner means they can hole up in Gladio’s room after doing “homework”, and they can lock the door because they “need to concentrate”. Sometimes it means Clarus will high-five Gladio over breakfast, but Ignis doesn’t need to know that part.

“I - of course,” he says, just before his watch starts beeping, and his phone chimes in from wherever he dropped his bag. One second Ignis is pressed up against Gladio’s chest, and the next he’s halfway across the grounds, off to be everyone else’s Ignis again.


End file.
